Post by Isen Anderfel on Aug 2, 2013 23:06:25 GMT -6
Full Name:Isen Anderfel
Species: Beorc
Class/Specialization: Light Mage
Age: 28
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Grey
Appearance:
Isen Anderfel stands nearly six feet in height with a build suggestive of a rapier. Judging by his appearance, he would fit right in with the soldiers and knights his people train if he had gone down that path, but without the intensive physical exercises of eating, living, and breathing in armor and with weapons, he never developed the chiseled build of the fighter. That's not to say he is a scrawny piece of meat. He takes great efforts to remain in as good physical shape, as he is in mentally.
His clothing changes as needed, but when he is home, he rarely wears the soft robes of the church. Instead, he wears something more befitting of one of his order. The cut of his clothing is suggestive of something more militant than what you'd expect of a churchman spending his days reading books, and counseling citizens who come for aid.
Personality-wise, Isen frequently seems to be hiding something. Whether there truly is or not, he typically feels as though he has more cards than he is showing. He is often calculating and proud, and when he fixes someone with a stare, he always comes away with something about them. If they meet his glare head on, he knows they are just as proud or defiant as he is. If they break, then they are easily cowed or perhaps hiding something. If they don't react much, he considers that perhaps they are clever, and seeking to hide information from him. Or they could be fools. Everything around him builds a landscape: A path for the river to follow down the mountain. Those people are the water, and it is his game with himself to guess where they end up going.
History:
Taken in at a young age by a priest of the Begnion Church, Isen was raised under the tutelage of the clergy for the beginning of his life. He learned to bow his head and pray to the Goddess Ashunera, who asked her followers to remember peace, and acceptance. Her followers were to be united in their efforts to better the world around them. This was not the only thing he was taught though. They also could not forget the discipline that was expected of them by Ashera, the order based half of the greater goddess. Or the value placed on freedom which Yune, the chaos based half, kept close to her heart. And so, while still in his early teens, Isen was caught up in the war between the churches.
Three primary denominations existed, as well as numerous other smaller ones scattered across the lands, but with the dissolution of the political juggernaut of the Church of Begnion from the old days, there was no central power to govern and adjudicate all. Isen was an open book, ready to be filled with the teachings of one or all of them. Thankfully, he was scooped up by a man named Jermayan Anderfel.
Jermayan was a member of the Church of Yune. This branch focused especially on the idea of the good standing up for the fearful. The strong carrying the weak man. The powerful ruling with fairness and justice. It was the responsibility of those with the power to act, to use it wisely. And those without the power to do so themselves must assist until they too can stand for others. Never be afraid to ask for assistance from your superior, and when it is your place, make your decision based on these precepts. For Isen though, Jermayan had a very special purpose. Isen was expected to do his best to bring prosperity to those around him, and to counsel those in need, like any other member of the church. Isen was to be more though. He was physically conditioned to be able to run and climb, as he was told he would be expected to use his power so that other people who may be slower to act would never have to. His focus and tenacity were tested everyday as he trained, or studied. He was given scenarios and problems to investigate and solve, some theoretical and some real issues in the Duchy around him. And he was punished if he failed. All the while, he kept on with his resolve, because he had been told that he had been chosen to represent all of the tenants which Jermayan and the other members of his church stood for, and that one day, he would be called on for more than simple training.
That day came, and Isen learned that he was known to more than his teachers and mentors. The Duke of Gaddos, who played host to their church had always supported them, but Isen had no idea that he had been watching the young light mage's progress and training. Isen was twentyfive years of age, and had grown accustomed to his life. He was no longer constantly tested and tried by his teachers. Now he did that on his own, as a matter of course. He could quote whole swaths of the Book of Freedom's Light, and the spells he could call forth from his Goddess' power made a dazzling show for any lucky enough not to be his sparring partner in the exercise. Now he was called on to go out and track down a disgruntled mercenary who was demanding more pay after having narrowly escaped serious injury from combat on his last job. The merchant who he'd been escorting was afraid to leave, in case his former guard came after him. He'd asked for help from others in the area, to try and calm the man down, but to no avail. His searching had caused one thing to happen though. Word had reached Duke Gaddos of the situation, and he had sent word to the Church of Yune's Freedom, suggesting now would be a good chance to see what their project was capable of.
Now Isen found himself walking up the trail, to where the swordsman was said to have made his camp. He'd made preparations for the encounter, and could feel the anticipation building. From the outside, he looked a common enough sight. A priest in a white robe and a mane of shaggy black hair. As he neared the swordsman, he called out.
"Greetings, Friend. The Goddess's peace be upon you."
The swordsman looked up from where he'd been sitting by the side of the road, and he looked the rough sort. Isen could understand the merchant's worries, as he wondered if it wasn't a better idea to just give the man the money he asked for.
"Hmm.... Where's the money?" The swordsman didn't look happy that his demands seemed to have been turned down, and Isen took note of this, though he didn't stop his slow approach.
"There's no money here, Friend. Just you and me.... I was hoping to get you to reconsider."
"No. I about died to raiders in the mountain pass, and if he doesn't pay up, then... Well, I don't want ya to soil your robes, priest." The man punched his fist into his hand before cracking his knuckles. He probably thought it menacing. Isen only took it as a cue that he may need to go further than words to deal with this situation.
"Look." Isen said, drawing a parchment from his robe's pocket. This had been one of his preparations."
"This is a copy of your contract with your former employer. I see no mention of increased pay for more danger, so you're going to have to back down."
The next thing Isen knew, the man had lunged forward and grabbed him by the hair on his head, and was dragging him back towards the small camp. "I'll tell you what I should do, is send you back bearing a message. And maybe a new scar with it."
For a moment, Isen struggled with the stronger man, trying to break his grip, but then he felt a blade begin to bite into the top of his head, near where the man gripped, and he realized that he had made a mistake. He only hoped that he still had time to correct it. Reaching inside his robe, he dug out a small book and immediately was reminded of the power at his command. The power gifted to him, for him. And he began to quote from the book in growing frantic voice.
"And as her paths are set before us, and we follow her ways, so shall she gift us with her sight, and the weapon of the enemy shall be taken." He opened his palm and a bolt of pure golden light shot up from his empty hand. There was cursing from the mercenary a moment later, and a dagger dropped to the ground at Isen's feet. The grip weakened, and Isen looked up, a fiery light beginning to catch in his eyes.
"And the sight of the wicked shall be closed off from them, and their inheritance given to the righteous...," Angry golden sparks filled the lightmage's palm as he drove it up into the swordsman's face, and the man stumbled backwards, blinded for the moment.
Blood streamed down Isen's face as he reached up and touched the injury. He had no idea what it actually was yet, other than painful. He'd have to get someone to look at it once he dealt with this ruffian. The reserves of patience depleted, Isen was ready to have his way with this one.
As the man's sight returned after the blinding light, he looked up to see the priest reach up and unclasp the white robe he'd been wearing. As it fell away, black remained. Not a mild mannered preacher that he'd expected when he first saw the young man, but something clad like a war mage from the past. The gold accents on the outfit reflected the light coming off of the tome in one hand, and the sparks in the other.
"As per request of Duke Gaddos, I am dealing with you. You have two options. You can come with me peacefully back to a cell where you will be fined or imprisoned for assault, which is more generous than I'd rather be, or I can strike you blind and burn you like a steak until you scream for mercy, and then you can come back and be imprisoned for assault and resisting arrest." The smolder in the light mage's eyes and voice did most of the talking. It was apparent that the lightmage really would burn him until he begged for mercy. The man hesitated a moment, and Isen spoke once more.
"Have you ever tried to outrun a ray of light?" In fact, it was a tactical bluff. The Lightmage looked impressive throwing sparks around, but there was a limit to how long he could actually maintain his magic. Trying to hit a moving target with enough precision to do what he'd threatened wasn't easy either. It paid off though, and they went back to the city with only a few small delays once the merc realized that protesting would get him nowhere.
Isen considered the mission a failure, due to his ineptness at the beginning. His teachers said to be thankful that it had only been a minor injury though. His experience stays with him always, in the form of a the cut on his head, though it was healed when he returned, within a few months he found that his hair had changed to a streak of white in that section.
It has been three years since then, and he has not been idle. He is eager to follow his mentors' teachings and put his power to good use.
Species: Beorc
Class/Specialization: Light Mage
Age: 28
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Grey
Appearance:
Isen Anderfel stands nearly six feet in height with a build suggestive of a rapier. Judging by his appearance, he would fit right in with the soldiers and knights his people train if he had gone down that path, but without the intensive physical exercises of eating, living, and breathing in armor and with weapons, he never developed the chiseled build of the fighter. That's not to say he is a scrawny piece of meat. He takes great efforts to remain in as good physical shape, as he is in mentally.
His clothing changes as needed, but when he is home, he rarely wears the soft robes of the church. Instead, he wears something more befitting of one of his order. The cut of his clothing is suggestive of something more militant than what you'd expect of a churchman spending his days reading books, and counseling citizens who come for aid.
Personality-wise, Isen frequently seems to be hiding something. Whether there truly is or not, he typically feels as though he has more cards than he is showing. He is often calculating and proud, and when he fixes someone with a stare, he always comes away with something about them. If they meet his glare head on, he knows they are just as proud or defiant as he is. If they break, then they are easily cowed or perhaps hiding something. If they don't react much, he considers that perhaps they are clever, and seeking to hide information from him. Or they could be fools. Everything around him builds a landscape: A path for the river to follow down the mountain. Those people are the water, and it is his game with himself to guess where they end up going.
History:
Taken in at a young age by a priest of the Begnion Church, Isen was raised under the tutelage of the clergy for the beginning of his life. He learned to bow his head and pray to the Goddess Ashunera, who asked her followers to remember peace, and acceptance. Her followers were to be united in their efforts to better the world around them. This was not the only thing he was taught though. They also could not forget the discipline that was expected of them by Ashera, the order based half of the greater goddess. Or the value placed on freedom which Yune, the chaos based half, kept close to her heart. And so, while still in his early teens, Isen was caught up in the war between the churches.
Three primary denominations existed, as well as numerous other smaller ones scattered across the lands, but with the dissolution of the political juggernaut of the Church of Begnion from the old days, there was no central power to govern and adjudicate all. Isen was an open book, ready to be filled with the teachings of one or all of them. Thankfully, he was scooped up by a man named Jermayan Anderfel.
Jermayan was a member of the Church of Yune. This branch focused especially on the idea of the good standing up for the fearful. The strong carrying the weak man. The powerful ruling with fairness and justice. It was the responsibility of those with the power to act, to use it wisely. And those without the power to do so themselves must assist until they too can stand for others. Never be afraid to ask for assistance from your superior, and when it is your place, make your decision based on these precepts. For Isen though, Jermayan had a very special purpose. Isen was expected to do his best to bring prosperity to those around him, and to counsel those in need, like any other member of the church. Isen was to be more though. He was physically conditioned to be able to run and climb, as he was told he would be expected to use his power so that other people who may be slower to act would never have to. His focus and tenacity were tested everyday as he trained, or studied. He was given scenarios and problems to investigate and solve, some theoretical and some real issues in the Duchy around him. And he was punished if he failed. All the while, he kept on with his resolve, because he had been told that he had been chosen to represent all of the tenants which Jermayan and the other members of his church stood for, and that one day, he would be called on for more than simple training.
That day came, and Isen learned that he was known to more than his teachers and mentors. The Duke of Gaddos, who played host to their church had always supported them, but Isen had no idea that he had been watching the young light mage's progress and training. Isen was twentyfive years of age, and had grown accustomed to his life. He was no longer constantly tested and tried by his teachers. Now he did that on his own, as a matter of course. He could quote whole swaths of the Book of Freedom's Light, and the spells he could call forth from his Goddess' power made a dazzling show for any lucky enough not to be his sparring partner in the exercise. Now he was called on to go out and track down a disgruntled mercenary who was demanding more pay after having narrowly escaped serious injury from combat on his last job. The merchant who he'd been escorting was afraid to leave, in case his former guard came after him. He'd asked for help from others in the area, to try and calm the man down, but to no avail. His searching had caused one thing to happen though. Word had reached Duke Gaddos of the situation, and he had sent word to the Church of Yune's Freedom, suggesting now would be a good chance to see what their project was capable of.
Now Isen found himself walking up the trail, to where the swordsman was said to have made his camp. He'd made preparations for the encounter, and could feel the anticipation building. From the outside, he looked a common enough sight. A priest in a white robe and a mane of shaggy black hair. As he neared the swordsman, he called out.
"Greetings, Friend. The Goddess's peace be upon you."
The swordsman looked up from where he'd been sitting by the side of the road, and he looked the rough sort. Isen could understand the merchant's worries, as he wondered if it wasn't a better idea to just give the man the money he asked for.
"Hmm.... Where's the money?" The swordsman didn't look happy that his demands seemed to have been turned down, and Isen took note of this, though he didn't stop his slow approach.
"There's no money here, Friend. Just you and me.... I was hoping to get you to reconsider."
"No. I about died to raiders in the mountain pass, and if he doesn't pay up, then... Well, I don't want ya to soil your robes, priest." The man punched his fist into his hand before cracking his knuckles. He probably thought it menacing. Isen only took it as a cue that he may need to go further than words to deal with this situation.
"Look." Isen said, drawing a parchment from his robe's pocket. This had been one of his preparations."
"This is a copy of your contract with your former employer. I see no mention of increased pay for more danger, so you're going to have to back down."
The next thing Isen knew, the man had lunged forward and grabbed him by the hair on his head, and was dragging him back towards the small camp. "I'll tell you what I should do, is send you back bearing a message. And maybe a new scar with it."
For a moment, Isen struggled with the stronger man, trying to break his grip, but then he felt a blade begin to bite into the top of his head, near where the man gripped, and he realized that he had made a mistake. He only hoped that he still had time to correct it. Reaching inside his robe, he dug out a small book and immediately was reminded of the power at his command. The power gifted to him, for him. And he began to quote from the book in growing frantic voice.
"And as her paths are set before us, and we follow her ways, so shall she gift us with her sight, and the weapon of the enemy shall be taken." He opened his palm and a bolt of pure golden light shot up from his empty hand. There was cursing from the mercenary a moment later, and a dagger dropped to the ground at Isen's feet. The grip weakened, and Isen looked up, a fiery light beginning to catch in his eyes.
"And the sight of the wicked shall be closed off from them, and their inheritance given to the righteous...," Angry golden sparks filled the lightmage's palm as he drove it up into the swordsman's face, and the man stumbled backwards, blinded for the moment.
Blood streamed down Isen's face as he reached up and touched the injury. He had no idea what it actually was yet, other than painful. He'd have to get someone to look at it once he dealt with this ruffian. The reserves of patience depleted, Isen was ready to have his way with this one.
As the man's sight returned after the blinding light, he looked up to see the priest reach up and unclasp the white robe he'd been wearing. As it fell away, black remained. Not a mild mannered preacher that he'd expected when he first saw the young man, but something clad like a war mage from the past. The gold accents on the outfit reflected the light coming off of the tome in one hand, and the sparks in the other.
"As per request of Duke Gaddos, I am dealing with you. You have two options. You can come with me peacefully back to a cell where you will be fined or imprisoned for assault, which is more generous than I'd rather be, or I can strike you blind and burn you like a steak until you scream for mercy, and then you can come back and be imprisoned for assault and resisting arrest." The smolder in the light mage's eyes and voice did most of the talking. It was apparent that the lightmage really would burn him until he begged for mercy. The man hesitated a moment, and Isen spoke once more.
"Have you ever tried to outrun a ray of light?" In fact, it was a tactical bluff. The Lightmage looked impressive throwing sparks around, but there was a limit to how long he could actually maintain his magic. Trying to hit a moving target with enough precision to do what he'd threatened wasn't easy either. It paid off though, and they went back to the city with only a few small delays once the merc realized that protesting would get him nowhere.
Isen considered the mission a failure, due to his ineptness at the beginning. His teachers said to be thankful that it had only been a minor injury though. His experience stays with him always, in the form of a the cut on his head, though it was healed when he returned, within a few months he found that his hair had changed to a streak of white in that section.
It has been three years since then, and he has not been idle. He is eager to follow his mentors' teachings and put his power to good use.
